


Erotidia

by greygerbil



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Dom Victor Nikiforov, Friends With Benefits to Developing Relationship, M/M, No Banquet AU, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, sub Georgi Popovich, undernegotiated bdsm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:55:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28646397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greygerbil/pseuds/greygerbil
Summary: Even laying naked under Victor in his bed, Georgi wishes he could get closer to him.
Relationships: Victor Nikiforov/Georgi Popovich
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16
Collections: YOI Rare Pair Week 2021





	Erotidia

**Author's Note:**

> For Day 6 of YoI Rarepair Week 2021. The prompt was: Eros.

Georgi got along best with Victor when he was on his knees in front of him, Victor’s hand in the back of his neck and Victor’s cock in his mouth.

He loved Victor, had, on and off, for too long. He didn’t know if Victor so much as liked him, but that didn’t change much about his own feelings, and, still reeling from Anya, he was a clutter of pieces very ready to be further thrown into disarray. When Victor had pulled him close by the front of his shirt one July evening as they were alone on the ice, after they had argued about some detail of one of Georgi’s performances for way too long, Georgi had been sure Victor was going to punch him, but he’d kissed him instead. Two months later, Georgi still didn’t know why. Boredom or desperation? Victor hadn’t seemed happy in a while. He didn’t talk about it and Georgi didn’t know how to ask, still didn’t. In the day, he was just his rink mate and when they met in the evenings, they rarely spoke at all.

At least they had this, though, and Georgi held on to it with both hands. Luckily, intensity was easy to nurse when every time they went to bed had the impact of a kick to the stomach, and sometimes literally involved as much.

It had started out slow. The first time they had fucked, in the changing rooms, it was only Victor keeping an unusually firm grip on Georgi’s hips. Georgi had never slept with a man, never with someone he hadn’t dated for a couple of months, either, but Victor and him had known each other since they were seven and the fact that it was him thrusting between Georgi’s thighs was so much more surreal than that he was a man, anyway, so he hadn’t spent much time dwelling on it.

After that, it had escalated, an avalanche like distant thunder in the mountains coming down, tearing loose snow, a forest, a town, and the world away on its way down.

Georgi had never liked backing down before Victor and Victor had always enjoyed drawing him out. This wasn’t the ice, though. Here, Georgi could actually win. That was what it felt like, anyway, when he took what Victor gave him without wavering and saw how intrigued Victor was, spurred on to put the pressure on harder next time.

So they went from Victor’s tight hold at his wrists to fingernails digging marks into his flesh, from Victor pressing his hand down against the mattress to wrenching his arm behind his back, from Victor slapping him lightly on the backside to taking out his belt.

Victor didn’t leave bruises that anyone could see when Georgi spun on the ice in his sleeveless shirt, not the kind that couldn’t have been from a fall. He was violent, but never hurt him so that Georgi couldn’t get up and skate the next morning. In fact, Georgi never felt unsafe until they were done and Victor would sling his arms around him and hold on to him like Georgi was a plank of wood on the open sea and Georgi wished he was good enough friends with Victor to ask him what this was about, or why he skated like he’d forgotten his heart at home these days.

Then came the week before the test skates. Georgi’s mind had been wandering for days now. The songs he’d chosen to mourn Anya’s and his relationship and win her back seemed stale to him now that his attention was focused on Victor, but he didn’t dare make them about Victor, either, because Victor would realise and he would be angry or not care at all and Georgi didn’t know which would be worse.

He tried to put the thoughts aside as he walked into Victor’s apartment, petted Makkachin, and let Victor take him into the bedroom. He felt his muscles uncoil under his hands when they put a mark on his thigh and he breathed a little more freely when Victor cuffed his hand to the bedpost, but then he was with his face in the pillow and though he’d been there a dozen times, he just wished he could have kept looking at Victor tonight.

Victor liked to spread his knees until his thighs were uncomfortably wide, push hard between his shoulder blades so Georgi was in the most embarrassing position, face down, ass up, unable to shift against discomfort because Victor was leaning against him. The feeling was not unlike landing a hard jump, the sudden rush of adrenaline that made his head light and his hands cold.

One of Victor’s arms snaked around his shoulders. He gripped Georgi’s face, palm framing his jaw, thumb digging into his cheek, fingertips against his throat. It was not enough pressure to choke him, but the threat was there, though Victor wouldn’t have. Georgi felt himself grow hard as fear mixed with the sensation of their bodies skin on skin, dull pain; but his nerves were still tittering in the background like violin strings, not allowing him to fall.

He really wished he could just look Victor in the eye; even if he’d smirked at him, it would have been fine. However, he liked being good, and Victor enjoyed him being good. So he kept his mouth shut and held still – maybe a little too still. The muscles in his arms locked up and now his shoulder hurt where it bent up, forced to reach for the bedpost. He realised he was pulling against the cuff, tried to stop. Just as he’d told himself to focus on Victor’s body over his, Victor leaned back and deprived him of the contact, only grabbing him by the short strands of his hair and yanking them hard. It wouldn’t have hurt too much to have his head bent back like that if Georgi hadn’t still been fighting the cuff, and the sudden spike of pain that shot up his arm and neck as his muscles pulled in two directions finally switched him to panic.

“Stop,” he gasped out.

It had never occurred to him that Victor wouldn’t listen and so he was not surprised by how quick the tension eased. He had not expected the hasty, carefully caress of his shoulder that stopped suddenly, as if Victor wasn’t sure it was welcome.

“Ah, wait – wait, here’s the key,” Victor murmured. He scrambled to unlock the cuffs.

“Sorry,” Georgi said as he sat up, trying to keep his breathing under control, and then finally turned to look at Victor as he’d wanted to do the whole time.

Victor looked scared. That was oddly reassuring. Georgi had feared he would see disappointment.

“Is everything alright?”

Victor looked Georgi up and down, carefully, as if he could damage him with his gaze.

“Yes.”

Georgi wanted to leave it at that. He’d never before had this urge to show off in front of people he slept with, make himself seem invulnerable, but it was different with Victor. They had been in so many competitions that this seemed like one, too. However, Victor looked doubtful and worried and Georgi realised it wouldn’t be right to leave him wondering if he’d seriously hurt Georgi.

“I just didn’t relax,” he added, lifting his hand to show Victor where, despite the padding, the handcuff had bitten into his skin. “It wasn’t something you did.”

“You’ve taken worse from me in the past... but this sort of thing happens mostly in the head,” Victor said, as if to himself, frowning as he looked at the mark.

“True,” Georgi murmured.

Victor ran both hands through his hair.

“I’m sorry. I’m not actually very experienced. I’ve tried a few things in the past, but not the kind of stuff you let me do.”

“I have never done this at all,” Georgi answered, wondering why Victor had picked him to start with.

Victor gave a rueful frown.

“I should have made you give me a safe word from the start.”

“Maybe,” Georgi admitted. “I never really felt I needed one but ‘no’, though.”

The uncertainty in Victor’s expression smoothed out somewhat, though it didn’t fully disappear. “If you protested, I couldn’t go on. Not even if it was a game.”

Georgi rubbed his shoulder. “Then we want the same thing. I guess we probably should have talked about that,” he added with an awkward smile that Victor mirrored.

“Probably,” he agreed. “You spoke up late,” he noted, looking at the deep red pressure mark in his flesh again.

Georgi hesitated. “I didn’t know if we would do this again if I did.”

He still didn’t.

“Why not?” Victor just asked blankly.

It was perhaps the most calming thing he could have said, with that absolute lack of understanding about where Georgi would even have come up with the idea.

“I don’t know,” Georgi said because if Victor wasn’t volunteering reasons, he wouldn’t put them in his head.

“Really, I think it’s the only thing I enjoy doing at the moment. Considering it’s mostly making you hurt, what does that say about me?” Victor said into the ensuing silence.

“You’re not the one getting beaten up on purpose,” Georgi answered.

Victor snorted, hanging his head. “At least we’re strange together.” 

There was silence between them, but it felt comfortable, made Georgi braver. He dared to looked over at him. “You’re not alright,” he said. “What’s the matter?”

With a sigh, Victor leaned back on his hands and gave him that honey-sweet media smile.

“Do you want to hear me complain about feeling trapped on the ice? Like I have nothing else? After I took every national gold medal from you for fifteen years, and a couple dozen international ones you could have had, too?”

Georgi frowned. He couldn’t pretend he wouldn’t feel a twinge of envy here and there, but hadn’t they moved past that? “Yes. You’re not just my competitor. You’re... well, I don’t know what, but I’m naked in your bed.”

Victor took a long look at him. “See, this is why I’m jealous of you. You’ve always cared about other things than this sport.”

“I do care about you,” Georgi said quietly.

Victor remained silent and Georgi figured they really would stop doing this now. However, he knew himself – it would have slipped out eventually, anyway. _Better to get it over with._

Victor put his arm around Georgi’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Georgi had no idea what this was supposed to mean, but warmth spread through his chest.

“Safeword,” Victor demanded.

“Makkachin,” Georgi said, after giving it a moment’s thought. “I couldn’t continue if he got in the room and watched us, anyway.”

Victor snickered. He pressed Georgi back into the pillows. This time, they were face to face and looking up at him, Georgi was pliant as loose fabric when Victor pushed into him, even as his wrists were pressed into the mattress. As he leaned his face into the crook of Victor’s neck and pulled him closer with his legs, he hoped it would not be their last time.

-

“Aren’t you done at six?”

They had parted without many words yesterday. Georgi had managed to make it through practice today, which had had him and Victor at opposing schedules in the gym and on ice, meaning he’d had a little space to clear his mind. Now, he was waiting for the moment that he could finally tell Victor about what he’d done during lunch break, and his hands wouldn’t stop fiddling threads out of his scarf as he wondered how Victor would react to it.

“I still have to show you something.” Victor grinned, scuffing his golden skate against the ice. “ _Eros_.”

“Your free skate?” Georgi leaned on the balustrade around the rink. He had already been to the changing room and his backpack was heavy on his shoulders. “Did you change it again? This close to the test skates?”

“I had some inspiration. Turn on the music.”

Georgi grabbed the CD and placed it in the player as Victor glided to the middle of the chunk of rink space left empty for him.

He pressed play. _Eros_ started up and at the first look Victor threw him across the ice, Georgi knew immediately what he’d meant.

He felt the sudden urge to check if anyone else was watching, like the other people at the rink had any way to know just how much this had to do with him. This wasn’t the playful Casanova number that someone like Chris could have effortlessly pulled off anymore; this was very specifically the Victor who grabbed Georgi by the jaw and threw him down and tied his hands with his belt. The curves were sharp. Ice flew when Victor put down his blade. His jumps, precise as always, hit like blows on the music. Quick, joyful dance sequences had turned into a flurry of decisive movements that commanded the gaze to follow.

By the time he was done, Georgi felt like all the little blood that hadn’t gone to his head was down between his legs. There was another breathtaking thought but his base reaction to Victor’s skate, though. If Victor’s _Eros_ was inspired by him, then Georgi’s skates could be inspired by Victor. Maybe he could fight for him, stop his floundering and pull together two skates Victor couldn’t help but watch.

“What do you think?” Victor asked breathlessly, the tips of his boots knocking against the rink wall as he put his hands on it.

“That’s definitely not a side you’ve shown before.”

He knew how much Victor liked to surprise people and how often _Eros_ and _Agape_ had changed this summer as he had tried to fit them to that need.

“No.” Victor cocked his head, his hair falling over his eyes. “But I figured if you can like this part of me, maybe others will.” He leaned in closer to whisper in Georgi’s ear. “I still want you to look closest, though.”

Georgi swallowed and nodded his head like it was another order Victor had given him behind a closed door. Victor smiled.

“Why did you ask when I’m leaving?” he added, conversationally, as he leaned back.

Georgi willed his thoughts back to the present. He’d almost forgotten now.

“I had an idea for something we could do tonight. Not at home.”

It didn’t seem like Victor had an immediate need to escape what clearly sounded like an invitation to a date, so Georgi soldiered on.

“I found a company who organises horseback riding tours around Tsarskoye Selo – usually for tourists, of course. I remember when you were nine or ten, you used to ride a lot, but your parents forbid it because of figure skating. They said you couldn’t risk getting injured.”

Whether Victor liked him or not, he liked Victor, and if he felt he was missing the world for figure skating, then Georgi would try to show him the outside.

Victor stared at him. At least, for once, Georgi had surprised him. “You remembered that?”

“Not everyone forgets everything all the time.”

Victor laughed.

“You’re cheeky for someone who has never been on a horse. Let’s hear how much you have to say in two hours.” He raised a brow. “And maybe I’ll take a riding crop as a souvenir.”

As he spoke, he clambered out of the rink, grabbing on to Georgi’s arm and hauling himself just a little too close. Georgi’s heart beat faster as he saw Victor smile at him, honest and wide. Maybe, just maybe, he had a chance to win here, too.


End file.
